


like january

by sharkfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Comfortably Bisexual Dean Winchester, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Grey-Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Hand Jobs, M/M, Nothing bad happens AT ALL, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: “I told you that I’m asexual,” Cas says, “and that’s true, but I’ve always understood myself to be more gray-asexual than purely asexual. That means --”“I know what it means,” Dean says, letting out the breath he was holding.“I haven’t been attracted to someone in so long, the distinction no longer seemed to be relevant.”“Nothing can change the way I feel about you,” Dean says. “Nothing.”Cas looks down at his hands. “Sometimes I think I may be attracted to you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [superhoney](http://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney)

This is how they meet: some asshole at Dean’s favorite coffee shop slams into him, which makes Dean stumble and slam into one of the little tables, which causes the man sitting at said table to spill his iced coffee all down his white button-up and blue tie.

“Shit,” Dean says. “Dude, I’m so fucking sorry.”

The guy who ran into Dean doesn’t even pause, much less apologize, but Dean is a little more worried about the mess he’s made on this poor innocent bystander.

The man glances up at him, then does a double take. “Oh,” he says faintly. “It’s ok.”

“Let me get you another coffee at least. What are you drinking?”

The man looks down at his ruined shirt, then back up at Dean. “Iced vanilla latte,” he says at last.

“Hold tight, and I’ll get you another one.”

“Saw that,” Dean’s favorite barista says. “Brutal.”

“Large coffee for me and a large iced vanilla latte for… that guy.”

“Coming right up.”

The drinks are up in record time, and the barista watches with interest while Dean delivers the new drink. Dean is almost glad for the mishap, because the guy covered in coffee is fucking gorgeous, the morning light coming in through the front windows making his blue eyes stand out and easing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” Dean says, holding out his hand.

“Castiel,” the guy says, shaking firmly.

Dean can pick a woman up anywhere, anytime, in any circumstance, but he’s not very good at talking to men. Still, his touch lingers a little too long, and so do his eyes, and Castiel blushes slightly under his gaze. That seems like a good sign.

“Let me, ah, take you out to coffee sometime,” Dean says with a grin.

“I’m having coffee right now,” Castiel says.

It’s Dean’s turn to blush. “I meant -- shit. Nevermind.”

“Are you trying to hit on me, Dean?”

Dean looks everywhere but Castiel’s face. “Yeah, I guess so. Unsuccessfully.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Castiel smile. It’s small, no teeth, but it’s a start. “I’d love to have coffee with you sometime. Not right now, though, as I need to go home and change my shirt before class.”

“Of course,” Dean says, “I’m headed to work so -- let me give you my number.”

Castiel pulls out his phone and takes down Dean’s number, then immediately texts him so Dean has Castiel’s. “I’ll text you,” Castiel says.

Dean grins all day.  


**Castiel  
** _Hello, Dean. It was nice to meet you today._

_hey there. it’s always nice to make gorgeous men spill coffee all over themselves_

_I hardly think I qualify as “gorgeous.”_

_i get to decide that i think_

_To be frank, I’m not sure why someone like you would want a date with someone like me._

_what does that mean? what are we like?_

_You: Handsome, kind, intelligent, probably work with your hands. Me: Ok-looking geeky professor who rarely sees sunlight._

_you: beautiful eyes, sexy hair, pretty hands, too smart for me. me: kind of an idiot greasemonkey_

_I’m also asexual._

Dean blinks, staring at his phone for long moments. Thanks to Charlie, he knows about even the lesser-discussed parts of the alphabet soup community, but she’s the only asexual he’s ever actually met.

_so like u aren’t interested in sex at all_

_I do not experience sexual attraction._

_does that mean u don’t really want to get coffee with me?_

_You would still want to?_

_i didn’t ask u out just bc i want to bone u_

_But you do want to have sex with me._

_not if u don’t want to_

Is that the wrong thing to say? Dean hurriedly pulls up Charlie’s message thread and sends off: _how do i go about dating a asexual person_

 **Bradbury  
** _OMG DID YOU MEET SOMEONE?!??!?!_

_maybe but he’s ace and i think i already fucked that up_

_YOU? King of Sex Hill? Wanting to date an ace person???_

_look i’m not going to stop being interested just bc he’s ace u know i’m not like that_

_You go about dating an ace person just like you go about dating anyone else. Just without fucking them._

**Castiel  
** _I do not want to._

And a few minutes later: _Did I lose you?_

 _no i’m still here sorry my friend messaged me  
_ _she’s ace too_

_You were talking about me._

_i’ve never dated an ace person before. just asking for advice_

_That’s sweet._

_when are u free??? my schedule is pretty flex_

_Are you available in the afternoons at all? Monday I’ve got some time at 2pm._

_i can do that_

**Bradbury  
** _DON’T YOU DISAPPEAR ON ME MOTHERFUCKER TELL ME EVERYTHING_

_his name is castiel he’s a professor he’s so hot i almost died_

_How did you meet???_

_i spilled coffee all over him at java_

_What an auspicious start to a relationship!_

_god charlie it’s just 1 date not a relationship  
_ _it’s not even a real date just a coffee thing_

_Oooh, a “coffee thing”!! When?_

_monday_

_Ok, so you have all weekend to stew in self-doubt. Great! Text me AS SOON as it’s over and tell me every single thing that happens. Actually, you should just call me without him knowing so I can listen to the entire thing._

_don’t think that’s happenin_

 

Charlie knows Dean too well: he does spend the entire weekend stewing in self-doubt. It doesn’t help that Castiel doesn’t text him once they’ve solidified plans to meet (at a different cafe than the one where Dean spilled coffee all over him). Dean is used to sending a flurry of flirtatious text messages back and forth, even with girls he met on Tinder and won’t be able to actually meet in “real life” for weeks. It’s a type of foreplay, but maybe that’s the whole reason it’s not happening with Castiel. No foreplay necessary if you aren’t going to fuck in the end.

Dean takes a change of clothes to the shop, his nicest jeans and one of his better t-shirts, and manages not to blush at all when Benny teases him about it as he’s walking out. There’s not much to be done with the grease under his fingernails, but at least he manages to scrub it off his hands.

Castiel is already at one of the big comfy chairs in the cafe when Dean walks in, his eyes on a laptop set up on the small table next to him. Dean pauses for a moment just to look at him, the straight line of his jaw, curve of his cheekbone, cleft of his chin. Castiel really is gorgeous, and Dean has several traitorous thoughts about things he’d like to do to him before he can stop them.

Castiel doesn’t look up until Dean starts to approach him. Dean smiles shyly and says, “Heya, Castiel.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel stands up, but it’s clear he doesn’t know what to do after that. “Do you, ah, do a hug thing?” Dean says, opening his arms a little.

As if relieved to be given an option, Castiel nods and steps into Dean’s arms. Castiel is not a good hugger by any means, but Dean still feels good to have his arms around him. He doesn’t let the hug linger too long, though, not wanting to make Castiel uncomfortable on their first… “coffee thing.”

“I didn’t order anything yet,” Castiel says. “I was waiting to see what you wanted.”

“I’ll get it. Are you doing an iced vanilla latte today?”

“I’m paying. What do you drink?”

“No, I’ll get it --”

“I insist.”

Dean grumbles but gives up. “Large coffee. Black.”

Castiel returns a minute later with both of their drinks in hand. “Black coffee, huh?” Castiel says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so?”

“It just seems like masculine posturing. Who are you trying to impress with your coffee preferences?”

“Uh,” Dean says, “I just like it.”

“No one can possibly like black coffee, and it’s especially strong here.”

Dean takes a sip, sighs in pleasure, and smiles at Castiel. “It’s fucking delicious here is what it is.”

Castiel laughs. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“What, are you a coffee-ologist or something?”

“I’m an ornithologist, actually. I teach at the Department of Integrative Biology in the College of Natural Sciences.”

Dean blanches. “Only about half of those words made sense to me, man.”

“I study birds. I teach at UT.”

“Thanks for dumbing it down for me.”

Castiel tilts his head. Kind of like a bird himself, Dean thinks. “What do you do, Dean?” He gestures to Dean’s hands. “Cars?”

“I, uh, I have my own shop. I mostly mess around with restorations but we do a bit of everything.”

Castiel glances out the window. “That’s your car, then? The black one?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s my baby. 1967 Chevy Impala, cherry everything. I rebuilt her from the ground -- sorry, you don’t care about any of that.”

Castiel takes a sip of his drink. “Of course I care. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To learn about each other?”

Dean looks down at his hands, unable to handle the earnestness in Castiel’s face. “Then tell me your favorite bird.”

“The fancy one I usually tell people or the actual one?”

“Actual, preferably. But you can tell me both.”

“Well, in actuality, I have a bit of a love affair with the brown pelican. If you’ve ever been to the Gulf you’ve probably seen a million of them, but they were the species that made me want to study birds in the first place. Something so fascinating about watching them fish.”

“That’s awesome, Cas. I was afraid you were going to tell me some bird I’ve never heard of. But I know what you’re talking about.”

“No one calls me ‘Cas,’” Cas says, peering at Dean.

“Shit, sorry. Castiel. I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s a mouthful. My name. But for some reason most people don’t try to give me a nickname.”

Dean gives a sideways grin. “Honestly you seem like the type that could kill a man with just a look, so I’m not surprised no one wants to cross you.”

“I look like that?”

“Yeah, man. You kind of do. Like right now.”

Cas’s eyes soften and he smiles. “My apologies. You’re welcome to call me ‘Cas.’”

“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Dean says, “what are you working on?”  


The Coffee Thing goes well. Really well, considering they are still sitting there two hours later, when Cas looks at his watch and jumps up suddenly, saying he has to leave _right now_ or he’ll be ridiculously late for his office hours. Dean sends him out with another quick hug, and Cas waves at him through the window as he rushes down the sidewalk. It’s, frankly, much more endearing than a man in his mid-thirties has any right to be.

Dean is overeager to talk to Cas again, so as soon as he gets back to the garage, he sends a text message saying: _hope u weren’t too late bc of me_

 **Castiel** **  
** _I barely made it on time, but that was as much my fault as yours. :-)_

Cas gives his smiley faces noses. Another thing Dean finds ridiculously endearing.

_text me later if u have time?_

_I was planning on it._

Dean smiles and hums to himself the rest of the evening.  


**Bradbuy  
** _SOMEONE HAS NOT TOLD ME EVERYTHING YET YOU FUCKER_

_christ girl calm down it was just a coffee thing, not much to tell_

_NOT MUCH TO TELL?! YOU GO ON A DATE WITH A DUDE FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE EVER AND THERE’S NOTHING TO TELL?!_

_he’s really funny and too smart for me and he let me hug him and he smells really good  
_ _and it’s not the 1st time i’ve ever gone on a date with a dude_

_When was the last time then?_

_aaron_

_And that went so well._

_if u aren’t nice to me i won’t tell u anything_

_Please tell me you didn’t tell him what a ho you are._

_no CHARLES our sex lives did not come up on a COFFEE THING_

_Did you get a second date out of it???_

_he’s texting me later_

_Yikes._

Dean’s heart kind of stops. _yikes_?

_Sorry dude, sounds like a cop out._

Dean is still typing a -- rather nasty -- reply when his phone pings again.

 **Castiel  
** _I apologize for texting so late. I was trapped in an argument with an ignorant colleague about mammalogy vs ornithology. It took up far too much time I’d rather be spending talking to you._

Grinning, Dean screenshots the message and sends it to Charlie.

 **Bradbury  
** _This is one time I’m glad to be wrong. But just remember that I am right 100% of the rest of the time._

_w/e i’ll talk to u late_

_Fine. You just met him and you’re already too busy with loverboy to talk to me._

_get over it_

Dean goes back to Castiel’s thread and types: _it’s totally cool not like i was waiting around or anything_

_Your entire existence didn’t scream to a halt waiting for me? With that kind of line, don’t think you’re getting a second date out of me._

_aww come on cas i was such a gentleman today!_

_You were. Was I?_

_other than eyefucking the shit out of me yeah u were a gentleman_

It occurs to Dean that this is going to come across _completely fucking wrong_ without the teasing tone to go with it, so he hurries to say: _i’m just teasing i know u weren’t i’m sorry_

_Just because I’m asexual doesn’t mean I can’t take a joke._

_it was a stupid one whether ur ace or not_

_:-) Is there such thing as non-sexually eye-fucking the shit out of someone? I was definitely doing that._

_so much for u being a gentleman!_

_Despite my heathen ways, would you like to get together again?_

Dean doesn’t want to seem too desperate, but he uses caps anyway. _YES_

_When?_

_this weekend? i can take u to dinner_

_Saturday night would be great._  


 

Saturday night _is_ great. They talk easily through dinner, and not once does Cas make Dean feel like a moron, and he even listens to Dean talk about the new project he’s working on with rapt attention, asking all the right questions in all the right places and generally making Dean feel like his non-university-professor job actually matters.

They close out the restaurant and afterwards wander around the streets, just for an excuse to keep talking. At some point their hands brush, _totally accidentally_ , and Cas hooks his pinkie with Dean’s, and after another couple of blocks they hold hands for real, palms pressed together and fingers woven.

When they finally make it back to their cars -- and, unsurprisingly, Cas drives some monstrosity of a hybrid that’s “good for the environment, Dean” but ugly as sin -- Dean is itching all over for a kiss. “Hey,” he says as their hands part. “Are you a no-touching ace or do you like to be kissed?”

Cas tilts his head in a way that Dean is starting to adore and says. “You can kiss me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dean wants to be good about it, so he touches Cas’s jaw to tilt his head up, and then softly presses his lips against Cas’s. Cas kisses back, opening his mouth as if to welcome Dean’s tongue, but Dean pulls away. He doesn’t trust himself to go down that route yet. They both lick their lips at the same time, chasing the taste of each other.

“I had a really awesome time,” Dean says. “Goodnight, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas is smiling his real smile, the big one that makes Dean melt.

At the last moment, Dean leans forward and gives Cas another gentle kiss. He wasn’t wrong: it’s just as good the second time, and it shivers all the way down to his bones, and he thinks about it all the way home and as he’s in bed, waiting for sleep.

 

Dean’s the one to bring it up. They’ve been seeing each other for a couple months, two or three times a week, holding hands and sharing gentle goodbye kisses and curling up together on Dean’s couch to go through the list of Very Important Movies Cas hasn’t seen yet.

Still, Dean is nervous and shy to say it. He makes himself do it right after Cas arrives, before they’ve even sat down for dinner. “I need to talk to you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, because Cas goes white and his hands start to shake. “It’s ok,” he says, “I understand.”

“What? No! That’s not what I meant.” Dean grabs Cas’s hands, brings one of them up to his mouth to kiss Cas’s knuckles. Dean doesn’t usually put his mouth anywhere near Cas, other than their chaste kisses, but this seems rather innocent, too, and he can tell it calms Cas a little. “I just thought -- we’ve been seeing a lot of each other -- and I just thought, maybe I could be your boyfriend.”

Color comes back to Cas’s face quickly, turning into a blush. “Really?”

“Would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

“No, but…”

“Look, Cas. I don’t care if I have to be celibate forev -- I mean, I just don’t care if I have to be celibate. I want to be with you.”

Cas looks away, and Dean’s heart thuds in his ears. In all the ways he imagined this scenario going, he never really thought Cas would reject him. But maybe -- maybe. Cas isn’t looking at him. Dean wants the floor to swallow him and then to basically die.

Cas glances back at Dean, and before Dean can react, he throws his arms around Dean’s neck and kisses him, hard enough that their teeth knock and they pull away from each other laughing. “Sorry,” Cas says, “I got a little excited.”

“I -- yeah -- I guess so.” Dean is grinning, because he guesses that answers the question as good as anything. “Want to try again?”

This time Cas’s approach to him is more measured, controlled, and he kisses firmly but not too hard, and then his tongue comes out to touch the seam of Dean’s lips and that’s it, Dean is officially dead and gone.

Dean opens his mouth and hesitantly presses his tongue against Cas’s, and despite just professing celibacy for however long he can have Cas, he’s suddenly half-hard in his jeans and _wanting_. So he pulls away. “Sorry, Cas,” he says, meaning it, “but now I’m getting a little excited, so I think we should stop there and have dinner.”

“As boyfriends.”

“Yeah, Cas. As boyfriends.”  


**Bradbury  
** _So you’re about to change your facebook status and I haven’t even met the guy who stole your heart???_

_it’s not a big deal_

_When was the last time you had a boy/girlfriend? DO NOT SAY AARON BECAUSE THAT DOES NOT COUNT_

_lisa i guess_

_HOW MANY YEARS AGO WAS THAT?_

_will u chill out and stop yelling at me? fine it’s been a long time  
_ _but i really like him_

_Like REALLY REALLY like him or just sort of like him? If you break his little ace heart with your sexual nonsense, I will kill you._

_aren’t u supposed to be MY friend?_

_Aces stick together, jackass._

_i know what it means to date an ace person ok? no sex. i’m fine with that. bc i REALLY REALLY like him_

_Awwwwww!!!!!!_

_stop it_  


 

Cas has roommates and Dean has not, so sometimes Cas stays over at Dean’s. They kiss goodnight (no tongue) and hold each other close (Dean will never admit preferring to be the little spoon) and if Dean wakes up with morning wood, Cas is kind enough not to bring it up.

But Dean, despite his total ok-ness with not having sex with Cas, is still a sexual guy, and sometimes thoughts about Cas sneak up on him.

“I have to be honest with you,” Dean says.

Cas’s shoulders tense the way they do when he thinks he’s about to get bad news, so Dean pulls him closer and kisses his cheek.

“I just -- is it ok if -- sometimes when I jerk off, I think about you. Thinking about someone else doesn’t totally feel right but neither does thinking about you. Is that ok or…? I mean, I can figure it out if it’s not. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Ever.”

Cas is silent, just looking at Dean with his searching eyes, for a long time. “I have something to tell you, too.”

Now it’s Dean’s turn to tense. Things have been so good with Cas and for long enough that he’s become complacent, not looking for the other shoe to drop around every corner, but maybe this is it. “Ok,” he says, trying to sound supportive and not terrified.

“I told you that I’m asexual,” Cas says, “and that’s true, but I’ve always understood myself to be more gray-asexual than purely asexual. That means --”

“I know what it means,” Dean says, letting out the breath he was holding.

“I haven’t been attracted to someone in so long, the distinction no longer seemed to be relevant.”

“Nothing can change the way I feel about you,” Dean says. “ _Nothing_.”

Cas looks down at his hands. “Sometimes I think I may be attracted to you.”

“You don’t have to be, Cas. It’s ok.”

“Can you please listen to what I’m saying?”

“Sorry,” Dean says.

“Sometimes I think I may be attracted to you,” Cas repeats, “but it’s been so long that I don’t really remember what that would feel like.”

“You’ve been attracted to people before?” Dean says.

“I was the TA for a particularly handsome professor in grad school.”

Stupidly -- and he knows it’s stupid -- Dean feels jealous of this unknown professor. He’s a neanderthal to feel it, but it’s there all the same. “But no one since.”

“Until you.”

“What does it feel like?”

“When I first saw you, my hands became numb. I couldn’t think. I didn’t know anything about you, but I was drawn to you all the same. Now, when you kiss me -- I wish you would keep touching me. I wish you’d never stop. Sometimes I get erections thinking about you.”

“Um,” Dean says, licking his lips. “Wow.”

“And I’ve been -- frustrated -- with you for not touching me. And I thought maybe we could try a little more touching. Just to see if I like it.”

“You’re not just doing this because of me, are you? Because I’ll do anything for you, Cas. I don’t need you to pretend or whatever just for me.”

“I wouldn’t. I never have before.”

Dean nods, looks down at their hands, which are strangely not touching. He reaches out for Cas and laces their fingers together, then touches Cas’s face with his other hand. “I want to touch you all the time,” Dean admits quietly.

Cas says, “Kiss me.”

Dean thinks he could never say no to anything Cas wants, but this is an especially easy request. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Cas’s, the same kind of soft touch they always share, but Cas grabs Dean by the hair to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. Dean is so surprised he can’t react rationally enough to pull away -- he lets Cas’s tongue rush into his mouth and he can’t stop himself from moaning a little when Cas pulls harder on his hair.

Cas breaks away and says, “That _sound_.”

Dean blushes. “Sorr --”

“Don’t apologize. I just don’t know how I’ve gone so long without hearing it.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Depends. Will you make that noise again?”

“Maybe.”

Cas leans forward this time, the kiss starting off gentle again, but then he opens his mouth under Dean’s and their tongues touch and Dean thinks he may actually be dying. As much as he’s willing to give up sex -- or anything, really -- for Cas, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this.

Dean slides his hand into Cas’s hair, a safe touch they’ve shared a million times, and Cas hums in pleasure. They kiss for long minutes, just the two of them while the rest of the world fades into the background, not mattering at all, and break only when they need air. They don’t go far from each other, though, mostly just panting against each other’s lips.

“God, Cas,” Dean whispers.

“I agree,” Cas says.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that? The professor?”

Cas laughs. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“I should write him a thank you letter.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Cas says. “I’ve never, um, had sex.”

Dean’s heart breaks for how uncertain Cas sounds, for the way Cas won’t meet his eyes. Dean ducks his head down to force eye contact, offering a smile. “Are we talking about us having sex?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow. I’m -- shit, let me wrap my head around that one.”

“We don’t have to,” Cas says quickly. “You deserve to be with someone who can make it good for you.”

“I want to be with _you_ ,” Dean says, “whether we have sex or not, whether it’s good or not. I mean, I can’t imagine anything with you being bad anyway.”

Cas gulps and nods. “Can I think about it some more?”

“Baby,” Dean says, stroking his thumb over Cas’s cheek. “I’ll want to be with you either way. So think as long as you need.”

“Can we kiss some more?”

Dean grins and leans into him.  


**Bradbury  
** _You’re coming to me for advice? HELL HAS FROZEN OVER, DEAN WINCHESTER IS ADMITTING HE NEEDS HELP!_

_don’t be a dick or i’ll ask the internet_

_You will not. The internet is a cesspool of bad advice._

_this is really personal and u can’t say anything to cas about it. promise?_

_Scout’s honor._

_cas thinks he might want to have sex_ _  
_ _with me_

_That sounds great for you and probably terrible for him._

_he brought it up_

_You don’t think he’s pandering to your desires? That boy adores you. I’m sure he feels guilty that you aren’t getting what you need._

_i don’t need it_ _  
_ _i need cas_

_You love him._

_no_  
_maybe_  
_idk  
but i don’t want to lose him _

_If you love him, then you better make sure he knows that you don’t care about sex._

_i’ve told him that before.  how many times do i have to say it?_

_As many as it takes._

 

 **Cas  
** _Hello, Dean._

_hello beautiful_  
_i have to tell you something_  
_i really really really really DO NOT CARE if we have sex or not_  
_i care about you_  
_i don’t care if i never get laid again  
as long as i can have you _

_I think I’d like to try it._

_please  don’t do this just for me please_

_Dean. If I was going to do it just for you, I’d have done it months ago._  
_I care about you too._  


It’s not sexy at all, but they make a date specifically to have sex, a Saturday night when neither of them have pressing responsibilities the following day. Dean has never been more nervous in his life. He goes to Dreamer’s and buys the good lube and plenty of condoms, just in case, though he doesn’t really think they are going to make it there their first time.

Dean makes them dinner, and they chat idly while they eat, though Dean can tell Cas is even more nervous than he is. After the dishes, Cas slips off to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and Dean follows. It’s a rather thoughtful gesture that makes Dean smile. Next to each other at the sink, Dean bumps his hip into Cas and Cas smiles at him in the mirror. That’s more like it: Dean loves to make Cas smile.

Cas has been in Dean’s bed plenty of times, so it’s not awkward to head to the bedroom and lay down together, Dean propped up on an elbow and just looking at Cas. He’s so beautiful. Dean has never wanted anyone more -- mostly his mind and not his body, though Dean wants that, too.

Cas turns his head to meet Dean’s eyes. “What?” he says.

“Just looking at you. You’re gorgeous.” 

Cas blushes. “You are too. Kiss me?”

This is easy. They’ve had several rather delicious make-out sessions since that first time, and Dean has learned all the ways to make Cas gasp and tremble by now. Dean uses his best tricks until Cas is a writhing mess beneath him, eyes dark and mouth red and kiss-slick. “Look at you,” Dean murmurs, going to Cas’s neck without thinking about it, slowly mouthing a line down his throat. “God, you’re fucking perfect.”

Cas tilts his chin back so Dean has better access to his neck. Dean nips and Cas’s breath catches. “You say that now,” Cas says, his tone mostly flippant but a little afraid behind it. “Just wait and see what a mess this is going to be.”

Dean stops, sitting up again to look at Cas. “We don’t have to --”

“I want to, Dean. I’m just embarrassed already.”

“Why?”

“I know you’ve been with a lot of people. I, on the other hand, have no idea what I’m doing.”

“So we’ll figure it out together,” Dean says with a crooked smile. “Right?”

Cas’s eyes search Dean’s, like he’s looking for a lie. “Right,” he finally says.

Dean leans down and kisses Cas again, tongues sliding against each other, and then Dean leaves his mouth to nuzzle along his jaw line and run his tongue along the shell of Cas’s ear before taking the lobe gently between his teeth, nibbling and sucking. He’s rewarded with Cas gasping again, and Cas whispers, “ _Dean_.”

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Dean murmurs. “Just let me take care of you.”

“Ok,” Cas says, breathless.

Dean kisses and bites his way down Cas’s neck. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and clenches his fingers against Dean’s back. “Anything specific you want to try, angel?” Dean says.

“I want -- I want --”

Dean feels pleased to make Cas lose his words. He presses an encouraging kiss to Cas’s cheek.

“I want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“ _Everywhere_.”

“You want me to suck your cock? You want me to eat you out? I’ll do anything you want.”

“Yes to both.”

Dean grins. “I can do that.”

Kissing at Cas’s neck, and then his collarbones, Dean slides his hands up under Cas’s shirt to feel the hard muscle and bones underneath his skin. Dean has slid his hand up Cas’s shirt before to lay flat against his belly while they are cuddling (god, who is Dean these days?), but he’s never touched with this kind of intent. He skims his hands upwards, finds a nipple to pinch, and is rewarded with amazing noises from deep in Cas’s throat. They’re still fully clothed, and Cas sounds like that? Dean is going to lose his mind before this is over.

“Sit up,” Dean says, and Cas does so Dean can pull his shirt over his head.

“You too,” Cas says, tugging at the hem of Dean’s t-shirt. Dean pulls out of it and tosses it on the floor along with Cas’s.

Dean goes immediately to Cas’s nipple, running his tongue in a circle around it, then pressing the flat of his tongue there and sucking gently. Cas arches up into his mouth. “Fuck,” Dean says, kissing down Cas’s sternum. Dean is achingly hard in his jeans, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Instead, he makes his way down Cas’s chest and belly, pausing to bite and suck arbitrary places, careful not to leave marks.

Dean’s not sure what he expects to find when he gets to the edge of Cas’s jeans. He’s not sure how easy it is to get Cas hard, if he’ll get hard at all just from Dean’s kisses, no matter how much he seems to be enjoying himself. There’s nothing for Dean to worry about, though: Cas is hard as rock, pressing into the zipper of his jeans. “Can I…?” Dean says, hands poised on the button of Cas’s pants.

“Yes,” Cas says, panting.

Dean carefully undoes the button and unzips, slowly, teasing himself more than Cas. Cas is wearing silly boxers with bees on them. Cas is always talking about going back to school to study melittology, so Dean couldn’t resist snatching up the boxers when he saw them.

“Did you wear these for me?” Dean says, grinning up at Cas.

Cas smiles back. “Yes,” he says. “They aren’t very sexy.”

Dean laughs. “They aren’t sexy at all, but they are perfect on you.”

Slowly, wanting to draw out this perfect moment with Cas laid out underneath him, Dean pulls Cas’s jeans down his legs and tosses them to the floor. He’s seen Cas in boxers before, but almost never shirtless, and certainly never with sexual energy buzzing in his veins. Cas’s dick is hard and tents his boxers.

Dean swallows hard, then leans down to nuzzle against Cas’s cock through the fabric. Cas hisses above him, reaches down to push his hands in Dean’s hair automatically. “Can I take these off, too?” Dean says, hooking his fingers underneath the elastic.

“Yes,” Cas says.

Revealing Cas’s cock is like -- fuck, Dean couldn’t describe it if he tried. Just like the rest of Cas, it’s fucking beautiful, deep red and curved slightly to the right. And he’s big -- Dean was feeling confident in his deepthroating abilities until just now, when he has to adjust his expectations of his own performance a bit.

“Is it… ok?” Cas asks, and again, Dean’s heart breaks for the self-consciousness in his voice.

“Perfect,” Dean says, and licks pre-come off the tip, just a barely-there touch. Cas’s hips still hitch upward, seeking more contact. “Are you sure?” Dean says, glancing up at Cas’s face and finding nothing but pure, unbridled lust there.

“Yes. Please.”

Dean wants to savor this moment basically forever, so he takes his time wrapping his mouth around the head of Cas’s cock, tongue pressing firmly at that spot along the bottom that drives most men wild. Cas is no exception: he jerks upwards into Dean’s mouth and moans so filthy Dean has to reach down and press his palm against the base of his own cock. He feels like he could come just off the noises Cas is making.

Dean slides his hands to bracket Cas’s hips, holding him down against the mattress, and slides his mouth down and up and down again, taking a little bit more each time until Cas hits the back of Dean’s throat. Cas’s hands jerk Dean’s hair and Dean _loves_ it, so he rewards Cas by taking a little bit more, the head of Cas’s cock actually going down his throat, and Dean moans around it only to have Cas answer with a deep groan of his own.

Dean still can’t take all of it, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind at all as Dean starts to move up and down, sucking and tonguing and generally giving Cas the best blowjob he possibly can.

Cas’s hands clench and release in Dean’s hair, and Cas keeps moaning, and Dean can feel his stomach muscles clenching, and then Cas is saying, “Dean, I think I’m --” and before he can get close to finishing his sentence, he’s coming hard in Dean’s mouth. Dean swallows as many times as it takes to accept all of him and then pulls off with a pop. Cas is shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Dean, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was going to happen --”

“Shh,” Dean says, kissing Cas’s belly, kissing up his chest to near his mouth. “It’s ok, baby. I liked it.”

Cas smiles, looking dazed. His eyes are hazy and hooded and his trembling hand reaches up to touch Dean’s face, touch the corner of Dean’s swollen mouth. “Kiss me?” Cas says hesitantly, like the answer would ever be no.

Dean kisses Cas, waits for Cas to offer his tongue to taste himself on Dean’s mouth. Cas whimpers a little and Dean smiles big down at him. “How was it, angel?”

“Good,” Cas says. “Really good.”

“You’re not a virgin anymore,” Dean says with a grin.

“I guess not.”

Dean can’t stop smiling, but he lays down and shoves his face into Cas’s neck to hide it, arm slung around Cas’s middle.

“Oh,” Cas says, “I guess I’m supposed to --”

“You’re not _supposed to_ anything. I told you I was going to make you feel good, and that happened, so now we don’t have to do anything else. Unless you still want me to lick you when you recover.”

“You could at least take your jeans off. It’s weird being the only one naked.”

“Whatever you want,” Dean says. He’s still achingly hard in his jeans and lifts his hips to shove them off. Cas watches silently. “Boxers too?”

“If you want,” Cas says, voice faint.

Dean glances at him and then shimmies out of his boxers. Cas is just staring at him, eyes sweeping down to look at Dean’s weeping cock.

Dean settles close to Cas again, against his shoulder, leaving kisses along his neck and taking one of his hands. Pre-come smears against Cas’s hip but Dean is careful not to seek friction there, just letting his body rest against Cas’s. “Is this ok?” Dean says.

Cas kisses Dean’s forehead and squeezes his hand. “Really, really ok,” he says.

 

Ever since Charlie said it, Dean can’t stop thinking about it. He told her he didn’t know, but that was a lie -- everything inside him sings with his love for Cas. He’s been in love with Cas maybe since that first moment he caught his blue eyes in the early sunlight in the coffee shop. Dean wants to say it to Cas, to make sure he _knows_ , but he can’t say it right after Cas had probably his first orgasm with another person. Dean knows it would come out cheap.

Still, he mouths it against Cas’s neck, silently, while Cas sleeps. He shrouds all of his kisses in it and leaves them all over Cas’s body. He traces the words on Cas’s belly with a fingertip.

“Are you writing something?” Cas asks, voice fuzzy as he wakes.

“No,” Dean says. He never slept, just held Cas and tried to commit every moment with him to memory, the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, in case Cas never wants to do it again. Which would be fine, but Dean will never regret this one memory. “How do you feel?”

Cas stretches languidly, then turns to face Dean, kissing him softly. “Perfect. Sorry I fell asleep.”

“That tends to happen after mind-blowing orgasms,” Dean says, smirking.

“What makes you think it was mind-blowing?”

“The look on your face when you came. It was like you’d seen God.”

Cas laughs and blushes. “I had no idea it would feel like that. Kind of makes me wonder why we haven’t been doing this all along.”

“Because you didn’t want to,” Dean says, drawing circles over Cas’s shoulder blades.

“I really liked it.”

“So, you think you might want to do it again?”

“Definitely. Though I also wanted…”

“Me to eat you out. I have not forgotten,” Dean says.

“No, I -- I mean, yes, I want that, too, but I want to touch you.”  

“We are touching,” Dean says. It’s true -- they are wrapped around each other, forehead to forehead -- but he’s also being a little willfully obtuse.

Cas blushes. “I want to touch _your cock_.”

“Oh,” Dean says, grinning, “we can do that.”

Cas kisses him, a little timidly, but quickly growing more confident when Dean makes a noise low in his throat and surges closer to him. Everything about Cas turns Dean on, so it’s not long before Dean is pressing a hard-on into the seam of Cas’s hip, a hand wrapped in Cas’s hair to hold him close.

Cas pulls away first and nudges at Dean’s shoulder so he rolls over onto his back. Cas sits up and slowly studies Dean, from head to toe, and smiles like he likes what he sees. Dean reaches out to take his hand, twining their fingers together, and Cas runs the fingertips of his other hand up the underside of Dean’s cock. Dean hisses, and Cas jerks away immediately. “No, no, don’t stop,” Dean says.

Cas reaches back out and touches again, swiping his fingers through pre-come and then, curiously, sucking it off his fingertips. “Jesus,” Dean says, cock twitching.

“I thought it’d be gross,” Cas says, “but it’s ok.”

“An acquired taste, maybe,” Dean laughs. “But watching you do that -- god, that’s fucking hot.”

“Hmm,” Cas says, and does it again. Dean’s dick doesn’t respond any less enthusiastically the second time. Cas smiles and wraps his hand around Dean, giving a couple loose strokes.

Dean arches up into his hand, seeking _more_ , and Cas’s grip tightens, but not nearly enough. “Cas, Cas,” Dean whispers, and jerks him down for a dirty kiss.

“Yes, Dean?”

“You make me so happy,” Dean says against Cas’s mouth. He almost says, _I fucking love you_ , but stops himself at the last moment. He wants to save that for later.

Cas licks his lips. “I don’t know how -- show me how to touch you.”

“Ok,” Dean says, smiling, and he wraps his hand around Cas’s, tightening his grip and moving it in a stroking motion, slow and just a tease at first. Dean is leaking pre-come steadily -- _god_ , Cas turns him on -- and shows Cas how to use it to slick the way, to make the glide of hands slippery and wet.

It takes a minute for Cas to get the rhythm, but then it’s just right and Dean moans and his hips move without meaning to, seeking even more delicious touch.

“A little more -- yeah, fuck, like that,” Dean says, suddenly gasping for air. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Really?”

“God, yes,” Dean says, moving his hand away from Cas’s to grip his hip instead, fingernails biting into flesh.

“I want to make you come,” Cas says, and Dean moans.

“Keep saying things like that, angel, and I will.”

Dean reaches up and puts his hand on Cas’s face, tugs him down for another deep kiss. Cas’s hand on Dean’s cock stutters for a moment and then catches back up, and now Dean has a hand wrapped around his dick -- not just any hand, _Cas’s_ hand -- and Cas’s tongue in his mouth and he’s ready to combust.

“A little faster,” he whispers. “I’m -- I’m close.”

Cas’s mouth leaves Dean’s and goes to his neck -- Dean tips his chin back happily -- and kisses and licks and bites gently down his throat. It’s one of those bites, a harder one, that really sets Dean off, and the coil of heat in his belly springs free and he’s coming all over Cas’s hand and his own stomach.

For a moment Dean just lays there with his eyes closed, one hand in Cas’s, trying to catch his breath.

“Was that ok?” Cas says, self-conscious again.

Dean opens his eyes and grins up at Cas. “God, Cas, that was _fantastic_.”

Cas’s smile lights him up from the inside, and Dean sits up to kiss it, no tongue, just sweet kisses over and over until Cas pulls away, looking between his hand and Dean’s stomach. “Gross,” he says.

“Yeah, sex can be gross,” Dean agrees, laughing. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After getting cleaned up and sharing snacks and a couple glasses of water, Dean takes Cas back to bed for a well-earned night of sleep.

 

Dean wakes up warm in Cas’s arms, Cas wrapped around him from behind, both of them still naked so skin is against skin from ankles to shoulders. Dean never wants to leave, but it’s not long before he has to pull out of Cas’s embrace to use the bathroom.

When he returns, Cas is in the exact same position, except his hand is reaching into the empty place where Dean’s body was minutes before, and Cas’s sleeping face looks concerned, like he realizes something is missing even in his subconscious. It’s one of the million things Dean loves about him.

He’s tempted to go straight back to bed, but Cas is a grumpy jerk without coffee, so Dean hits the kitchen to start a pot. He puts together a mug for himself -- a nice, masculine black coffee -- and a mug of Cas’s preferred sugar and cream with a splash of coffee. Dean always brings Cas coffee in bed when he stays over, but Dean’s a little less sure of how Cas is going to accept it since they _had sex_ the night before.

Dean had honestly accepted that he might never have sex again. Because he wants Cas, because he adores Cas, because he would do anything to keep Cas in his life and in his arms. And that’s not just a temporary feeling. They might not have been together quite a year yet, but they have been attached at the hip since they settled the “boyfriend” thing, and Dean wants to be attached to Cas’s hip forever.

Now, though -- maybe Dean shouldn’t have let Cas talk him into having sex. As sure as Dean felt about it last night, as he was undressing Cas and covering him with his mouth, he feels equally unsure now. If things are ruined with Cas just because Cas thought Dean needed to be fucking someone to be happy --

Dean shoves the thoughts away. It’s too late. It happened. He’ll deal with the consequences as they come, not imagine worst-case scenarios before Cas is even awake.

Dean sets the coffees on the bedside table and shakes Cas’s shoulder gently. “Good morning, baby,” Dean says. “I have coffee.”

Cas groans and rolls over, pulling a pillow over his head. Dean just laughs: they do this nearly every morning. Sometimes by the time Cas gets up, Dean has to go microwave his coffee back to piping hot. “Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Cas says from under the pillow. “It’s too damn early for that.”

“Honeybee,” Dean says, trying to keep a straight face, “it’s after ten.”

“‘Honeybee’? Really?” Cas rolls over just to glare at Dean.

“Sweetie pie?”

“Fuck you,” Cas says, but he is smiling.

“Did that last night,” Dean says with a cheeky grin.

The air between them goes flat and quiet. Dean looks away, hating himself more in this moment than he ever has before.

“Hey,” Cas says, sitting up and reaching for Dean. “What’s that face for?”

“Do you regret it?”

Cas thinks for a moment, considering carefully. “Not at all,” he says, running his hand down Dean’s arm. “Come here.”

Dean moves into Cas’s arms, letting out a sigh of relief to be close to him. Everything feels ok when they touch.

Cas presses his face into Dean’s hair and murmurs, “You don’t regret it, do you?”

“No,” Dean says.

Cas tips Dean’s chin up and kisses him on the mouth. “I want to do it again.”

“Right now?”

“Maybe after coffee,” Cas says. He grabs his mug and takes a sip, closes his eyes, a smile on his lips. “Perfect.”

“Cas,” Dean says. “I wanted to save it but I can’t wait anymore, I have to tell you something.”

Cas sets his coffee back on the table, looking at Dean quizzically. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is -- everything is really great, Cas. You make me so happy, you have no idea. I just wanted you to know that I love you. That I’m _in love_ with you. And, um, it’s ok if you don’t --”

Cas cuts him off with, “Of course I do. Of course I love you.”

Dean kind of thought Cas would say it back, but Dean had no idea how hard it would hit him. He grins, grabs Cas by the hair, kisses him hard. “Fuck,” Dean whispers into his mouth. “I fucking love you. Love you, love you, love you.”

“I love you too, I love you too, I love you too, I love you too,” Cas says, and they laugh together, giddy and in love.

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) on tumblr


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